Gentleman Callers
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: The female staff at Downton Abbey discuss gentleman callers. Pairings: Daisy/Thomas, Anna/Bates and  of course  Carson/Mrs Hughes. Takes place at some point during Series 1.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I must look a bit Like a Carson/Mrs Hughes maniac at the minute but I just got my Downton boxset (!) and was almost shocked to fin that they aren't married, like I've made them in my other stories and wanted to right more for them as we see them in the series. This is set at some point in, around about half-way through, Series 1.**

"Really?"

Daisy looked horrified.

"O' course," was Miss O'Brien's reply, "You let Mrs Hughes here you talking light that and, mark my words, she'll have the vicar round before you can say 'exorcist'."

Daisy's mouth hung open like a fish.

"Pay no attention to her, Daisy," Anna told her taking a chair at the table, "She's just trying to wind you up."

Gwen took the seat next to her.

"But why?" Daisy wanted to know of Miss O'Brien, seeming to have paid no attention to Anna whatever, "Why shouldn't we be allowed to have admirers?"

"Because Mrs Hughes thinks the stork brings you your husband," Gwen offered.

Miss O'Brien ignored this remark and leant against the the dresser. So did Daisy.

"Mr Carson isn't anywhere near as strict with Thomas and William as she is with us," she complained.

"Because she probably thinks that we're more vulnerable than men are," Miss O'Brien told her.

On this point, Anna thought, Daisy's confusion was almost understandable; it was hard to imagine a creature such as Miss O'Brien being particularly vulnerable to anything, let alone a man.

"Daisy!" the cry rang out around the kitchen, "What are you doing?- standing round here for a chat I suppose!"

Mrs Patmore emerged all guns blazing. Daisy opened her mouth in a wide-eyed attempt to explain herself but didn't manage to get any words out before Miss O'Brien cut across her.

"She were just asking me some questions, Mrs Patmore. About Mrs Hughes."

Predictably, this caused Mrs' Patmore's tune to change somewhat. Her air changed from that of antagonism to one more of interest.

"Oh yes?"

"Miss O'Brien was just telling Daisy about how Mrs Hughes with have her exorcised if there's any whiff of her having an admirer," Anna told her, hoping that the amusement did not show in her voice, not too much anyway.

Mrs Patmore raised an eyebrow.

"Was she now?" she asked, folding her arms, "Well, I've had my fair many quarrels with Elsie Hughes, but I'll say this for the woman: she's never yet tried to have me exorcised. First time for everything though," she added, casting a knowing gaze at Anna.

Daisy's expression was still one of the utmost horror.

"Who is this admirer you're all one about, anyway?" Gwen wanted to know.

At once, Daisy's face lit up.

"Thomas," she replied, her voice almost dreamy.

Mrs Patmore, Anna saw, threw an exasperated look in Miss O'Brien's direction, who returned one of flat wonderment. Gwen was confused:

"But isn't he...-?"

"Daisy!" Mrs Patmore interjected, "Those spuds won't peel themselves!"

Daisy, apparently reluctant to hear any criticism of Thomas or indeed of her regard for him, took the chance to avoid what Gwen had to say and leapt up. She scuttled off back towards the kitchen. Gwen, a frown across her features, turned first to Anna and then to Mrs Patmore.

"Isn't he...?"

The cook nodded grimly.

"He is," she confirmed, "But I'm damned if I can get the foolish girl to realise it!"

Anna laughed a little at the cook's frustration.

"I suppose if she really doesn't want to believe it, she just won't."

Mrs Patmore nodded again and said that was probably the case.

"What do you care about Daisy's romantic life when you've got Bates to cosy up to?"

Although it was not unlike Miss O'Brien to make remarks like that, its harshness still took Anna by surprise.

"What do you mean?"

Silly question, she thought immediately she had said it, it could not have been more apparent what Miss O'Brien had meant. Fortunately Gwen came to her rescue.

"Anna and Mr Bates are just friends," she told them, affronted on her friend's behalf.

There was little point in trying to make Sarah O'Brien believe something that she had already decided she didn't or didn't want to. Although she made no reply, that much was apparent.

"Has some kind of meeting, of which I am unaware, been recently called among the female staff?"

The four of them almost jumped out of their skins at the sound of Mrs Hughes' voice. Anna and Gwen immediately vacated their chairs at the appearance of their direct superior. Miss O'Brien seemed less concerned.

"We're entitled to our break, same as you, Mrs Hughes," she informed the housekeeper with an indifference that Anna both admired and resented.

"I," Mrs Hughes pointed out, "Have not been enjoying my break these last twenty minutes. Back to work all of you!"

Mrs Patmore, Anna noticed, had already slipped away. Unless she had a specific bone to pick with Mrs Hughes- which was, to be fair, quite often- she generally avoided the housekeeper's presence where possible.

"Anna," she called as the maids went to return to their work, "I'd like to see you after supper tonight in my sitting room."

Anna and Gwen exchanged glances as the housekeeper turned and left the servant's dining room. They both had an uncomfortable feeling that they knew exactly what Mrs Hughes wanted to talk to her about.

* * *

Anna thought it best to be on time and so went directly from supper to Mrs Hughes' sitting room. The housekeeper was already there; when she knocked with a tentative hand the call came bidding her to enter. Mrs Hughes was sitting at the desk an turned to see Anna come in.

"Anna," she began, "Sit down."

Anna sat, not saying anything; she was fairly sure that she would be shortly enlightened as to why she was there. She was right.

"Anna," Mrs Hughes sat with an unnaturally straight back, her hands folded demurely in her lap, "Certain worrying... circumstances have recently been brought to my attention.

She took a deep breath and seemed to be stirring herself. Anna remained silent. Mrs Hughes pressed on.

"Certain worrying circumstances," she iterated, "Regarding you, Anna. You and Mr Bates."

How much, Anna wondered, of that conversation did the wretched woman hear? She still said nothing. Mrs Hughes was looking at her not with the severity that she had expected; her expression held more concern.

"Anna," her voice was also softer than Anna had expected, "It was made quite plain to you when you first came here: gentleman callers and suitors of any kind are not permitted in the house. It is your choice whether or not you decide to meet a young man on your day off but I must remind you to respect the rules here- this is, after all, Lord Grantham's house."

Anna was examining her own hands.

"Anna?"

Reluctantly, she looked up but still did not meet the housekeeper's eyes.

"Anna, you're doing so well. It would be foolish to throw it all away now because of one man."

Anna nodded vaguely, to show that she was still- just- involved it the conversation and wonder if Mrs Hughes _really _did think the stork would bring her along a husband. She would, in fact, thank her lucky stars if the circumstances that she was hearing about had any real factual basis.

"I know, Anna," Mrs Hughes continued, "That you girls all think me a terrible tyrant when it comes to this kind of thing."

Heavens, Anna thought, she really must have heard the whole of that conversation.

"But I only have your best interests at heart. That and the the dignity of this household."

Shortly after, Anna was dismissed and told to go to bed.

Within ten minutes of sending Anna to bed, Elsie Hughes could not have felt more of a hypocrite if she had tried. She closed her eyes an waited: the clock had struck eight, it was a matter of seconds until he would be there. It was the awkward position she found herself in: she was expected to make sure that these girls conducted themselves with honour and dignity when men were concerned, which naturally meant setting a good example to them. Therein lay the problem: how was she supposed to set an example to them when she was- all things considered- the worst one of the lot?

She laughed to herself a little at that. At their age, it had never been like her to harbour ridiculous fancies for men, nor had it ever been. The circumstances now almost defied her character. It was certainly unlike her to break a rule: as she had reminded Anna, gentleman callers were not allowed. No- she was not breaking a rule; he was not that... but then what was he. She and Charles met each other most nights to discuss the business of the day, that was without counting the visits to the village when they invariably walked together, sitting together at most occasions and those incidents during the working day when they found themselves together and not exactly making haste to get away. Yes, Elsie thought, she was the worst one of the lot.

But then, they had started just as friends. They had to have done; if this had been going on for the near enough eleven years that she had known him she would have surely gone mad by now. Their innocuous meetings had been purely professional once upon a time. But it had started, longer ago now than she can remember: they would exchange a long look without realising or their hands would brush for longer than acceptable. She glanced at the clock, he was a few minutes later than usual. Unwilling to contemplate the idea that tonight might be one of those nights on which they did not meet, she waited impatiently but calmly- or at least with stillness.

She needn't, however, have worried. As usual he knocked at the door but entered without being asked. She tried to deny the flood of relief that filled her at the sound. Feeling the flush in her face, she waited a moment before turning to see him, hoping it would go.

"Are you all right?" he asked, looking at her with some concern.

Evidently, it hadn't.

"Perfectly," she told him, too quickly.

As he always did, he had waited for her invitation to be seated and settled himself in the armchair she pointed to.

"I saw Anna after dinner," he informed her.

"Oh?"

"The girl seemed a bit, well, put out." 

"You wouldn't happen to know what the matter was?" he asked.

She felt the flush return to her face and tried not to grimace.

"I had to have a word with her," the feeling of hypocrisy was raging, "The girls in general have all been behaving rather flippantly lately."

"I hadn't noticed."

"With regard to young men," she explained.

"You mean gentleman callers."

She nodded uncomfortably.

"Well, I thought I'd better have a word with Anna. I overheard Miss O'Brien earlier...-"

"You do know that woman goes looking for trouble most of the time and it finds her itself the rest."

She nodded grimly.

"I know," she told him, "But I have to be seen to be doing something about it at least."

His face was understanding as he nodded.

"You do," he admitted, "It is a very awkward position to be in."

At that point she had to close her eyes, moving her hand to rest on her forehead and thus hide her face, so as to hide the effect that the deep rumble of his voice had on her. She knew he was looking at her and felt all the more uneasy for it. She felt her hand go clammy: it was ridiculous the effect that this man had on her. She tried to mentally douse herself in cold water, trying to think about anything, anything other than him. Him and her.

"Yes, Mr Carson,"she agreed inwardly reflecting that he probably didn't know the half of what he had just said, "A very awkward position indeed."

**Originally this was just going to be a one-shot but I'm not sure now as I really enjoyed writing it, tell me if you want me to write more!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Will I 'eck as like," was Miss O'Brien's reply to the request. William looked taken aback. "I've got her Ladyship to see to, you'll have to ask Anna or Gwen."

"I'll do it," Gwen rose hurriedly and followed William away from the table. He looked extremely grateful.

Although her flat refusal to help William earned her a familiar feeling of resentment from the other members of staff gathered around the table, Miss O'Brien appeared not to notice and appeared not to notice and continued her sewing without acknowledging that they were even there. Mrs Hughes, seated at the head of the table in Mr Carson's usual chair delicately cleared her throat: no response.

"Miss O'Brien," she began, her cough having fallen upon- selectively- deaf ears. O'Brien looked up with a haughty irritation, "Don't you think had better see to her Ladyship, Mr Carson is about to ring the dressing gong."

"He's about to in five minutes," O'Brien replied, "I don't see why I can't wait until then."

"Just do it, Miss O'Brien, just do it."

Anna had to hand it to Mrs Hughes, at times- particularly in handling Miss O'Brien, the woman had nerves of steel.

"Shouldn't you be telling Anna to see to the girls as well, then?" O'Brien wanted to know.

Mrs Hughes was ready for her.

"As you know, Miss O'Brien, Lady Edith is away visiting his Lordship's cousin in Oxfordshire with her aunt. Lady Mary has been invited to dine at Crawley house tonight and Lady Sybil requested not to be woken until the last moment- I don't think the girl is well at the moment. So, no, Miss O'Brien; I would wager that five minutes have now passed during this worthless discuss. Kindly attend to her Ladyship."

Although Miss O'Brien left in silence she did not go quietly. For the most part she kept her eyes fixed on the table as she rose, glowering all the while and threw the housekeeper a look of the utmost distaste as she passed. Mrs Hughes, Anna would have guessed, had probably noticed but bore it with a composure that betrayed no evidence that any kind of hostility had passed between the herself and the maid. Miss O'Brien's departure, all parties seemed to realise too late, had left Mrs Hughes alone at the table with Anna and Mr Bates.

Mrs Hughes sat with the same straight back that Anna had seen her with earlier in the week in her office. The room was suddenly so quiet that every sound seemed to be magnified. The housekeeper gave another delicate cough and looked back at the pillow case she was mending. Although Mr Bates had not been party the discussions that had taken place between the two women but it was painfully obvious that something was wrong such was the tension between them. Across the table he exchanged half a frown with Anna. She shook her gently in response- it would take far too much explaining and it would be better on the whole if he did not ask. Mrs Hughes was stitching away furiously.

"I'd better go and see to his Lordship," Mr Bates finally announced.

Anna did not blame him, she would have escaped if she could- if Mrs Hughes did not know exactly how long she could reasonably detain her for. She smiled to him as he got up but looked abruptly down again, determined not to accidentally catch the housekeeper's eye. Mrs Hughes, it seemed, was not about to let that get in her way. She watched Mr Bates depart, Anna could see out of the corner of her eye and her felt the same eyes fix upon her once he had gone. Anna said nothing: if Mrs Hughes wanted to lecture her, she was going to have to find her own introduction. She evidently needed no help with that either.

"Have you had a chance, Anna, to think about what I said the other day?"

Anna was marginally surprised by the softness of the tone in which the housekeeper spoke, so much so that her eyes left the table and she looked up.

"I have, Mrs Hughes," she responded.

It was truthful: in one way or another she had been pondering the subject in one way or another ever since their initial conversation. At times she had felt indignation at Mrs Hughes' forwardness when her position was based on so little actual evidence. Then, at others, she found herself wondering where the basis- apart from Miss O'Brien's remarks- had come from in the first place. The housekeeper raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"And?"

Anna was not quite sure how to elaborate and was certain that she didn't want to, however Mrs Hughes' expression showed no sign of becoming anything other than inquisitive.

"Circumstances between Mr Bates and I are rather... complicated at the moment," she began carefully.

"Aren't they always?"

Anna was unsure as to whether Mrs Hughes was trying to admonish her or give her comfort. Judging by the look on her face, she was not exactly sure herself. There was nothing Anna could do but remain silent. She watched the frown grow on Mrs Hughes' face and the housekeeper put her hand half-over her eye for a moment. It seemed that she was excessively distracted.

"Anna," she said finally, "I am responsible for your welfare while you are here at Downton. Now you may deny it, you may not even realise it yourself, but it seems to me that you are abundantly attached to Mr Bates. I have reminded you of the house rules regarding your position and gentleman callers...-"

"I don't see that he's really a caller, Mrs Hughes," Anna interrupted, "If you'll pardon me, he lives here too and so doesn't really 'call' however you look at it."

"The principle if exactly the same," Mrs Hughes pointed out. She looked at Anna with something between pity and exasperation, "Anna, you are so young to be getting involved with a man like this. Consider: you have your whole future ahead of you, a great career in service. Would it not be foolish to throw it all away so early?"

"Would it be throwing it away," Anna wanted to know, "If it was for something better?"

This seemed, she thought, to take the housekeeper by surprise.

Indeed it had, there was no answer that Elsie could give to this question; how could she know herself?

* * *

Anna was already sitting up in bed by the time Gwen came upstairs.

"You're early," her friend remarked.

Anna looked up from the book in her lap.

"I fancied an early night," she replied.

"I thought you were just frightened of Mrs Hughes."

"How do you know about that?"

Gwen grinned, removing her apron and hanging it up.

"You didn't say anything all through dinner and pushed your face at the plate every time she looked in your direction. And you left like a shot as soon as you'd finished."

Anna had obviously never given Gwen the due credit for her observance. The young maid clambered into her nightdress and sat down cross-legged on her bed facing Anna.

"What've you done and what's she said to you about it?"

"You don't half ask a question!" Anna remarked with a grin. Then she saw that Gwen was not about to be deterred by this accusation and so continued: "It's after what O'Brien said to me. She's convinced that me and Bates are... I don't know: walking out or something."

"So... you're not?"

Anna stared at her.

"No Gwen, we're not! Don't tell me you think we are as well!"

The uncomfortable look on Gwen's face did not bode well.

"Well," she began with great unease, "Everyone's sort of thought that for a while now."

This was certainly news to Anna.

"Who's everyone?" she wanted to know.

Gwen shrugged.

"Well, Mrs Patmore and Miss O'Brien. And William, though he doesn't often say. And now Daisy."

If this was indeed true, Anna thought, then Mrs Hughes had had more evidence to support her claims than she had initially supposed. If, as this week's events had indicated, her aptitude for listening into conversations was indeed that strong, it was hardly surprising that she had felt herself sufficiently grounded to approach Anna about it. Having felt angry with Mrs Hughes before, Anna's displeasure was now turned to the rest of the staff.

"The talk in this house!" she murmured angrily, shuffling down her bed to lie and throwing the cover around herself. She turned so her back was to Gwen.

"I'm sorry, Anna," came Gwen's voice, "None of us meant any harm. We- well most of us, you know what Miss O'Brien's like- are really pleased for you."

"You could explain that to Mrs Hughes," Anna muttered, but found she did not have the will to remain angry at Gwen- after all she herself was equally as bad the rest of the time.

There was silence for a moment.

"It's fine Gwen," Anna eventually managed, "I know _you_ don't mean it in a bad way. I'm pretty certain that Sarah O'Brien does though."

Gwen laughed as she moved to blow out the candle.

"That you can be sure of," she remarked, "Goodnight Anna." 

"Goodnight Gwen."

* * *

It must have been at least two hours since she had extinguished her light, Elise thought, and her mind did not show any signs of allowing her any rest. However, she was determined not to be extravagant with her use of the candles- at least in that respect she could set a good example- and so remained in the dark. She turned over to face the wall. The bed sheet had somehow become tangled around her and she couldn't get her pillow to rest comfortably under her head. She shoved her wrist under her temple to try to help her gain a feeling of balance.

She was still feeling guilty about Anna. There was no escaping the fact that she had absolutely no right to tell the girl how to behave; her own position in the house- with regard to the standards of her behaviour- made the very idea of it all the more laughable. But that same position bound her to do, to say something. It was not a duty that she would usually shirk away from and that made it all the more important that she do it- lest she start overhearing conversations that she was the topic of. The image of Mrs Patmore or Miss O'Brien or Thomas gossiping about her having a fancy man, or worse still, slacking in her duties made her all the more uneasy and feel all the more awake. She shuffled a little where she lay, trying to dispel the thought.

The wall although plain and light became her focal point. Her bed was practically touching it. Absent-mindedly her hand reached out and brushed the smooth faded wallpaper. She paused as a thought suddenly rendered her rigid. Her room was the one next to the door separating the male and female servants' quarters: as the housekeeper it stood to reason as she was responsible for opening it. Charles, as her counterpart on the male staff, occupied the room next to the door on the other side. His bed, as was hers, was positioned directly next to the wall but on the right-hand side of the room as opposed to the left- she had noticed when Anna and Gwen had been cleaning it. The thought that aside from a single thin column of bricks and wall paper Charles and she were practically lying in the same bed was the last one she needed now.

She turned abruptly away, dragging the blanket with her. The pillow was colder on this side and she was able to settle better. She shuffled backwards again into her usual position, until she remembered the proximity of the wall to her back. The thought of Charles lying behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, head resting by hers was enough to send her from the bed convinced that she would never get any sleep there. She paced to the opposite wall and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon her knees. It was no good, she could still see the barrier that separated them. She crossed to her window sill, this would have to do. Fortunately it was sufficiently wide for her to use it as a seat. She rested her forehead against the glass and watched her breathe condense against the glass.

How would he react?- she thought, how would he react if I went to him? Now? Adversely, was the only conclusion she could come to. That would be her job gone, effectively. She could never carry on here after he turned her away, although she sure enough that he would have the could grace to hide her shame to save her in the eyes of others, it was only his opinion that mattered to her at the moment. But would she even want a job at Downton, without him being there for her every evening? He was sure to keep his distance if he only knew the effect he was having on her.

Elsie felt wretched but did not want to cry: she felt instead an overwhelming bitterness towards the state of her affairs. She was cross with herself for letting them become that way but, as much as she wanted to, she could not feel cross with him. It was she and she alone who had allowed this extremely awkward situation to arise.

**I have no plan at all for this story so you will have to tell me if you want me to write more. I am quite enjoying writing for Anna but I'm not sure how well I'm doing it and I'm wondering if I have knocked Mrs Hughes a little out of character. Please tell me what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

"Will you give it a rest, girl?"

The progressing heat was starting to rather irritate Mrs Patmore and Daisy's constant praise of Thomas was not helping matters.

"But he's lovely, Mrs Patmore, do you not think?"

Mrs Patmore clearly saw no other option than to be blunt.

"No I don't," she replied with conviction, "And nor do I think that you flapping round here and blithering on about him is particularly lovely either! Get these drinks to William and tell him to walk them down to the pavilion as quickly as possible. But not to drop any," she added.

Daisy gone, Mrs Patmore turned and rested her back on the stove and put her hand to her brow: the picture of exasperation. Anna giggled.

"Has she still not realised?" she asked.

"What do you think?" Mrs Patmore wanted to know.

Anna smiled, brushing the kitchen table as she did so.

"You'd have thought she would have caught on by now."

Mrs Patmore nodded firmly, turning back around to check on the progress of her many cakes.

"Aye, you would," she consented, "But I'm lucky if I can suggest that his hair looks untidy let alone anything else. I just count it a blessing that we have all of them out from under our feet today."

The men, as Mrs Patmore had said, were rather thin on the ground. This was for a very simple reason: Downton Village were playing cricket at home. Lord Grantham's family were all in attendance- as Anna understood it, young Mr Crawley was quite the star batsman. The male servants were allowed to either attend- if they had not yet had a day off that week- and if they had were allowed to serve refreshments to the spectators. Thus, only the women remained in the servants' quarters that afternoon; none of them having any particular interest in the game and wanting to use their day off more wisely.

Having ascertained that there was no great danger of her baking over-cooking, Mrs Patmore took a chair with decided weariness. Anna, having brushed the table, stood to rest. The cook turned to her.

"What about you and Bates?"

Anna was surprised by that.

"You're as bad as Mrs Hughes, you are," she told her with a smile.

Mrs Patmore seemed to find this very amusing.

"That'll be the day," she replied.

Fortunately, Anna was spared answering by the appearance of Gwen and Miss O'Brien and the return of Daisy carrying several empty plates. Mrs Patmore turned to address them.

"Been down the village, then?" she asked.

"Have I 'eck?" came the reply, "I've been seeing to her Majesty's dress for this evening so as I don't have to do it later."

She took a chair by the cook with her usual down-trodden air of displeasure. Gwen came to stand next to Anna.

"How were they doing?" Anna asked. She knew Gwen, it being her actual day off, had taken a walk to the cricket match for a breath of fresh air.

"Not bad, from what I saw. Young Mr Crawley was still in when I left."

"William said he was doing brilliant," Daisy chimed in from the sink.

This seemed to displease Miss O'Brien.

"He'll have learned to play at the local grammar school, I expect," she concluded, "I can't imagine he went to anywhere proper like his Lordship. You know what his mother said to me the other day?"

"What did Mrs Crawley say to you, Miss O'Brien?"

All were surprised at the sound of Mr Carson's voice from the door. Anna and Gwen instinctively turned to face him as Miss O'Brien and Mrs Patmore both rose.

"Mr Carson," Anna began, "I thought you were in the village. At the cricket, like."

"I was," the butler confirmed, "But I saw fit to return: the game is open and shut and I thought it best to arrive here early to prepare for dinner. It was lucky that I did," he continued turning to Miss O'Brien, "Else I fear Miss O'Brien would have perpetrated near libel on his Lordship's cousins. Miss O'Brien, see that it doesn't happen again, or I shall have to inform Mrs Hughes of it."

He left toward his pantry. Miss O'Brien watched him go with an expression of utter contempt.

"He can tell me all he wants," she told them, "I can say what I like and I flaming well will."

"You were lucky it wasn't Mrs Hughes who caught you," Anna reminded her, "You got off lightly compared to what she'd have given you. He might tell her anyway; he's still shirty with the lot of us after all that with his Lordship's snuff box."

So am I, she privately thought. Miss O'Brien looked even more disgruntled than before.

"I shouldn't be surprised if he did," she replied, her usual air of disdain menacingly flourishing, "In fact I shouldn't be at all surprised if a lot more goes on between them than we get to know about."

"How'd you mean?" asked Gwen.

Miss O'Brien raised an eyebrow and took a drink from the cup of tea that Mrs Patmore had placed in front of her. It was quite clear what she had meant.

* * *

"Mrs Hughes!"

She didn't need to turn around, she would know that voice anywhere. Deep, very deep and rumbling. She smiled to herself, it had a wonderful rolling quality to it that she found infinitely relaxing. Heaven help me, she thought, if this man were to ever try to actively seduce me. She was a wreck as it was.

"Mrs Hughes?"

It was then that she realised that she had been so absorbed in her contemplation of his voice that she had forgotten to answer it. She snapped out of her daze.

"I'm sorry, Mr Carson!" she exclaimed, "What was it you wanted?"

He approached her a little further now that he knew she was listening.

"I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Mrs Hughes. In private."

"Certainly you might."

Fortunately they were already next to her sitting room. She opened the door and lead him inside, indicating him towards a seat. 

"What was it you want to talk about?"

He shifted uncomfortably. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mr Carson?"

"I hope you won't take this the wrong way, Mrs Hughes," he began.

Her curiosity was heightened.

"That depends on what you say. Try me."

She smiled at him to reassure him. He seemed to take heart from it.

"I think we need to be tougher on the staff."

Although the thought had previously crossed her mind at many times she wondered what had prompted him to declare it now.

"Go on."

He shook his head.

"I walked in on Miss O'Brien about to start on the Crawleys, again. You know how her Ladyship reacted the last time. We have to put a stop to talk like that going on."

She nodded firmly.

"What did you say to Miss O'Brien?" she wanted to know.

"Only that I would tell you about it and that she ought not to do it again."

She smiled a little at this naïvety and shook her head a little.

"This is Miss O'Brien that we're dealing with, not Gwen or Daisy," she reminded him, "She'll never listen to something like that, it'll make her worse if anything. I imagine she made a withering comment at your expense the moment you'd gone."

"You are always more lenient male staff," he almost grumbled, "You let my lot off, I let your lot off. What do you think she might have said," he added, in an voice of too casual disinterest.

"What?"

"Miss O'Brien? About me?"

Elsie laughed a little and tried not to do so too bitterly.

"She probably just cast some fickle personal aspersion upon you. And probably me too."

It took both of them a moment to realise what she had said.

"What on earth would give her that idea?" he asked, incredulous.

She tried desperately to sound casual and unconcerned.

"Nothing, nothing at all."

* * *

"That can't be the whole story."

For once, and it amazed her to admit it, Mrs Hughes was saying exactly what Anna was thinking. In fact she was so grateful to the housekeeper for doing so that she felt the urge to hug her. Thankfully she did not, she was rooted to the spot and struck dumb. It couldn't be true... it just couldn't be. Mr Bates, her Mr Bates, could not be a thief. She wouldn't believe it, she couldn't.

Mr Carson was talking and Mrs Hughes was looking from him to Bates, her expression agog, her mouth wide open despite all she'd ever said to Anna on the impropriety of such a thing. Why am I thinking of this now?- she wondered. Her brain seemed unable to function clearly. Mr Carson's voice washed over her; she was not taking any of it in. All she could do was stare at Mr Bates, blinking her disbelief.

She wanted nothing more than to shout at him that she refused to believe it, that it could not be true but she couldn't, not in front of Mrs Hughes or Mr Carson. It hit her that he was resigning.

No. Don't leave me, don't you dare leave me.

She hoped that her expression remained more impassive than her mind was. It then occurred to her that at a time like this her facial expression should be the least of her worries. But then, it seemed, she had been in service too long: they had her well trained.

Mr Carson, somehow, was apparently an angel. He did not accept the resignation offered to him, not yet anyway.

* * *

The moment that the younger pair left the room, Elsie turned to Charles, her face bearing the same astonishment as it had for the last few minutes. Judging by his face he was just as uneasy about the whole affair as she was. They exchanged a long-suffering look.

"I wish we hadn't agreed to be tougher on them," was all she could think of to say.

He nodded grimly.

"Should I go and see that she goes up now?" she asked him.

He looked up from his desk where he had fallen into a chair.

"Whatever for?" he demanded.

It was amazing, she thought, that he felt the need to ask. She looked for a way to try to put what she had to say in a dignified way.

"She's sure to have followed him," she pointed out.

"And?" he asked, rather flippantly. Then: "I'm sorry, Mrs Hughes. I realise your concern, but could you not cut them a bit of slack? Tonight at least. They should be able to talk to each other."

"If they're allowed to tonight, they'll want to on the next."

"Heavens, Elsie!" he exclaimed, "It's clear even to me that they have some feelings for each other! Can you not, for once, at least try to be understanding?"

He punctuated the word with such vehemence that they stung. She gasped a little. Suddenly she felt like a cold bitter old spinster. That, she reminded herself, was because that's what she was. Charles was looking as if he regretted what he had said.

"That hurt," she told him, trying to repress the choking in her voice.

He rose tentatively.

"I'm sorry," he replied. He looked as if he meant it.

It was all she could do to keep from crying. He patted her gingerly on the shoulder.

"I realise I haven't really made this any easier for you," he conceded, "I can be viscous when I'm overwrought sometimes."

He offered her his handkerchief; she accepted it trying not to do so begrudgingly.

"I'm sorry too," she meant it through the haze of reproach she still felt for his words, "I need to learn when to stop playing the over-bearing matron."

He nodded a little.

"You only want what's best for them," he told her, "As do I."

She blew her nose, hoping that she managed it gracefully, but she had her doubts.

"Except you seem to actually know what's best for them," she pointed out.

With that she felt she could not say anything, her eyes welling up rebelliously. It was with some awkwardness that he drew his arm around her should and held her to him. It only acted to increase her little sobbing gulps. She rested her head on his shirt front to hide the faint scarlet glow caused by their proximity.

**Sorry about the delay, I've been away for the weekend; hence the slightly hectic chapter! I'm enjoying writing this and now have an idea(!) of where it is going so I should update soonish. Thank you for your reviews: please leave one if you have got time. **


	4. Chapter 4

"Do you think you'll miss me?"

The question surprised her, although it fell from her own mouth. Still more surprising was that it didn't seem to do the same to him. Mr Bates smiled at her.

"I think I might manage to," he told her with a small smile.

He stooped to pick up his own bag. She knew better that to offer to do it for him. Before he reached the stairs he turned to look at her again. They stayed like that for she didn't know how long, him with one foot on the stair and a hand on the banister; her standing primly by the door to the servants' dining room. The clicking of a door caused them both to jump slightly.

"And you will be all right?" Mr Carson was saying as he retreated out of his own pantry.

Unsurprisingly, Mrs Hughes' familiar tone followed.

"Charles Carson, I have been here for the past twelve Seasons in your absence, during seven of which I acted as the head of this house. It has never yet burned down."

His tone was amused as he answered.

"Well, just as long as you're sure."

Mrs Hughes looked quite imposing standing in the doorway of the butler's pantry, hands on her hips.

"And I can have my pantry back when I return."

It was then that the two heads of staff seemed to become aware that they were not alone. Mr Carson, catching sight of Anna and Bates cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon, Anna, Mr Bates," Anna could not help but feel that the butler was looking a little self-conscious as he spoke, "I trust you are ready to depart?" he addressed his last remark to the valet.

Bates nodded.

"All ready, Sir," he replied.

Mr Carson carried a similar bag to him.

"Then let us go," he declared, "We mustn't keep his Lordship waiting."

Anna exchanged a look with Mr Bates before watching him ascend the stairs. Mr Carson, however, was not as keen to depart.

"And you'll remember, Mrs Hughes, to...-"

"Have Thomas lock up because you won't be here to do it," she finished for him. She gave a mock-irritated sigh, "Have away with you! We'll be fine."

Luckily, Mr Carson knew when the housekeeper had beaten him and gave Mrs Hughes a smile before turning to follow Mr Bates up the stairs. It did not escape Anna's attention that once Mrs Hughes' smile faded the housekeeper wore a look of mild melancholy such as the one she imagined she had worn moments before.

* * *

It was a relief to have them back, even if it did mean that Thomas and Miss O'Brien were also reunited and the same as 'ere they were. It would be insulting to point out that Charles was the specific contingent of the London party whose return she was most grateful for. It was with a spring in her step that she continued up to her Ladyship's room with the fresh linen. She knocked on the door and entered. Her Ladyship was sitting up in her bed.

"Thank you, Mrs Hughes," she said when she saw the housekeeper bearing the blankets, "Just put them at the end of the bed."

"Very good, my Lady."

"Couldn't you find Miss O'Brien?" she asked.

Mrs Hughes shook her head.

"There seemed little point in disturbing her just to deliver some sheets. Unless your Ladyship requires anything else?"

Lady Grantham shook her head, a kind expression on her face.

"No matter, Mrs Hughes."

"Is your Ladyship feeling better?" Elsie enquired.

Lady Grantham's smile seemed to grow at this.

"Infinitely, Mrs Hughes," she replied, "I was hoping that I would be able to tell dear O'Brien the news first but there seems little point at concealing it from you. I'm expecting a baby, Mrs Hughes."

Elsie could not pretend that she wasn't at least a little surprised at that.

"Congratulations, my Lady," she managed to stutter out. Evidently, years of practice had had little effect on her ability to control her astonishment.

Thankfully, her Ladyship seemed not to mind.

"It seems hard to believe, doesn't it?" she admitted.

Not knowing whether it was to herself or her Ladyship privately musing, Elsie remained silent. Lady Grantham looked over at the housekeeper and grinned in an almost comradely manner: she was clearly elated.

"Might I tell the rest of the staff?" Elsie asked.

She received a nod.

"You may," her Ladyship replied, "I imagine Mr Carson will be very pleased by the news."

"M'Lady?"

She knew it was paranoid of her, but she could not help but feel that her Ladyship might be insinuating something.

"He was so fond of the girls as children. Particularly Lady Mary."

So she _was _being overly-paranoid, Elsie thought.

* * *

Elsie, in spite of herself, cried a little when Anna told her the news. Dr Clarkson had confirmed Miss O'Brien's fears: her Ladyship's baby would never have stood a chance. In hindsight it was an odd thing to have a girl that you had spent the last few months subversively and hypocritically berating in one way or another pat you tenderly- if a little gingerly- on the back as you blew your nose.

"How awful," she finally managed, sniffing.

Anna nodded gently.

"And poor Miss O'Brien," she let out a half-laugh through her tears, "I can't honestly say I ever expected to say those words. She was there when it happened?"

The maid nodded again, her hand still resting on Elsie's back.

"She went to fetch Dr Clarkson straight away," she confirmed, and then; "His Lordship is understandably quite distraught."

Something in that remark pushed Elsie's brain back onto a more familiar course: it was the family who should be grieving, not them. As much as it felt otherwise, it was not they who had lost a child. It was their responsibility, her own personal responsibility, to ensure that things were as easy as possible for them. She felt the movement rather than actively deciding to straighten her back so that she stood in her usual prim and upright mode as her resident sense of duty kicked in and took a stirringly deep sigh. Anna seemed to sense this new air of business that was returning for she quickly continued:

"I don't think you should go rushing off back to work, Mrs Hughes. Lady Edith said that they would ring if they wanted anything, I think we're best off staying out of the way for the time being."

Elsie sniffed again in response, she could not deny that she did not feel much like going straight back to work, not just yet anyway. Suddenly a thought struck her.

"Has anyone told Mr Carson yet?" she asked, "It's sure to break his heart, I know he was looking forward to there being a baby in the house just as much as I was, although he wouldn't admit it."

"Has anyone told me what?"

Both women jumped a little at the sound of the butler's voice. Anna took a step back away from Mrs Hughes so as not to expose her recent state of distress and embarrass her in front of Mr Carson. He was apparently oblivious to what had recently gone on. She recalled that morning when he had said that he needed to spend some time in the wine cellar.

"Is there some kind of crisis of which I am ignorant?"

Oddly enough, yes Mr Carson, this time there is, Anna thought. Unsure as to whether or not to say anything she glanced towards the housekeeper. It seemed she was stirring herself to answer his expectant look.

"Mr Carson," Mrs Hughes began gently, then faltered. She cleared her throat and started again, "Mr Carson, there has been some bad news. Her Ladyship... Her Ladyship has...has miscarried."

He seemed at first not to take in what she had said but stood instead, open-mouthed, a frown creeping across his brow. Everything in his face seemed to say_ No, she can't have. _Mrs Hughes bowed her head, as if unable to look upon his distress but continued nevertheless.

"It happened this morning. She slipped when she was getting out of the bath. Miss O'Brien was sorting her clothes at the time; there was nothing she could do."

He seemed to be searching, Anna perceived, for a question to ask: for something that might better help him understand what had happened, how it could possibly have happened. However, Mrs Hughes thoroughness had extinguished all possible avenues that interrogation could take and he exhaled, seeming to deflate as he did so and almost slouched for a moment before- not unlike Mrs Hughes herself had done moments before- recovering himself.

"Then we must make up for it now," he announced to the two women, his usual unmistakable butler's dignity resurfacing.

It surprised Anna that Mrs Hughes did not rally to this quiet battle cry as she usually would. Instead, the housekeeper took him timidly by the left hand and squeezed it. She gave him a look that Anna had never seen her give before; a mixture of weariness and comfort which was somehow gently authoritative. He seemed to respond to this, he gave her a resigned nod and, posture once again conceding but not as dramatically, sighed, squeezing her hand back. Anna suddenly felt embarrassed to witness such an intimate situation between the two of them and wished she was not there. It was the first time that she had ever given any really thought to Miss O'Brien's suggestion that there might be something more between the butler and the housekeeper. Thankfully, though, Mr Carson shortly cleared his throat, gradually untangling his fingers from Mrs Hughes'. With this gesture he made it clear that it was time for the three of them to go back out and face the rest of the household.

**Another hectic chapter, I know. There should be at least one more after this. Thank you very much for your reviews so far, please keep leaving them.**


	5. Chapter 5

Finally, she was following him. He had studiously evaded her ever since his Lordship had made that fatal announcement- cutting a dead halt to the garden party. It seemed he was determined not to face her for some reason. Well, she was determined to face him, whatever it was that he wanted to keep from her. She saw him slip out of the back door and followed, pushing past Miss O'Brien. Surprisingly, no biting remark was flung at her. However her consciousness was not fully occupied by the niceties distributed by lady's maids, not by a long shot. Slipping out of the back door herself she was glad to see that he had gone no further than a few paces.

She was silent a moment; unsure as to whether to make her presence known. There was no doubt that he was troubled, it was evident from his posture. She chewed her lip waiting either for some kind of acknowledgement from him or for some decisive action to present itself. When neither came she decided to speak.

"What is it, Mr Bates?"

Nothing in his manner betrayed any surprise at sound. Perhaps, Anna thought fleetingly, he had known she was there all along. He seemed to take in a deep sigh by way of response. She waited a few seconds to see if there was anything to follow. When nothing came she advanced cautiously from the doorway toward him.

"Mr Bates, will you talk to me about it?"

He gave half an anguished look but still said nothing.

"Is it the war?" she asked stupidly.

He smiled, if bitterly; at least he appreciated the effort.

"That, and..." he trailed off.

Anna frowned lightly.

"Will you go to fight, Mr Bates?" she asked, rather boldly.

This question seemed to strike a nerve. At first she thought he was angry at her and tried to backtrack, however he cut across her.

"How could I?" his tone was harsh, "How could a cripple ever fight?"

Anna was silent for a moment. She found that she didn't know what she could say.

"Mr Bates," she began eventually, "I have known you for two years now. I have never seen you allow any affliction that you might have prevent you from doing what you feel you must achieve. If you feel," she struggled a little to say it, "If you feel that you are duty bound to serve your country; I have no doubt that you'll find a way. Heavens," she added, "I'm starting to sound like Mrs Hughes, aren't I?"

He smiled, although only slightly, with a genuine quality this time. The atmosphere between them lightened considerably. They stood in a more companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Anyway," she added, a little shyly, "Even if you stayed here, even if you never catch a glimpse of a gun during the next few months, I couldn't care. You wouldn't be any less of a man to me; any less of an admirable man." It was like a conversation they'd had before, only in reverse. "And for entirely selfish reasons," she stirred her courage, "_Entirely_ selfish reasons, I wouldn't even be sorry if you didn't leave the grounds of Downton for the next decade. So long as I didn't either." she added hastily.

He was looking at her...oddly. There wasn't a more precise description she could give it.

"But that's just my opinion," she added with even more haste: sensing a risk that she could start babbling but somehow unable to stop herself, "I understand. I understand that you feel you have to a fight, I'd never have expecte-..." 

She was cut off this time by his lips pressed against hers. His lack of restraint somehow surprised her, she felt them take a few steps backwards before coming to a comfortable halt together. His hands were warm on her face in the rapidly cooling air.

"Anna! Mr Bates!"

A piercing shook around her ears, causing them to jump apart almost as violently as they had moved together. Mrs Hughes was standing a few feet away from them: seemingly possessed of some great fury. Anna felt herself bite her lip: there was about a chance in a million that Mrs Hughes had just happened not to spot them and had been calling them in for supper. It vaguely registered with her that the housekeeper was shouting something about disgraceful conduct. Words like "profligate" and "irresponsible". She willed herself not to catch Mr Bates eye: an uncharacteristic giggling fit was probably the single worst thing that could occur at the moment.

"Mrs Hughes?"

Mr Carson's voice managed to briefly subdue Mrs Hughes' wrath. Anna reflected to herself that a second ago she had been wrong: this was the single worst thing that could have happened. Under the stares of the butler and the housekeeper she felt like a naughty child again. She bowed her head a little as Mrs Hughes explained to Mr Carson what, exactly, she had walked outside to find.

"Disgraceful conduct." Mrs Hughes concluded.

"If you'll pardon me, Mr Carson, it wasn't like that-..." Mr Bates began but Mr Carson interrupted him.

"No one's in any trouble," he reassured them.

Anna could not quite believe her ears and judging by Mrs Hughes' expression neither could she. She was staring at Mr Carson as if it were some kind of madman. The butler's tone, although weary, was nevertheless serious and reassuring.

"Anna, Mr Bates," he addressed them calmly, "Go back inside, Mrs Patmore will provide you with some soup. We're not doing things formally, so to speak, tonight. The straight to bed."

* * *

They were not going to wait around to be told twice. As they crossed the threshold, Anna saw Mrs Hughes turn to face Mr Carson, the look of fury firmly set in. She exchanged a glance with Bates: it was fair to say that neither of them would swap places with him for all of the tea in China.

Elsie felt the fury resurface in her as she turned back to face Charles.

"How could you undermine me so seriously in front of the staff?" she accused.

"Elsie-" he began again in the same calm, weary tone he had used to address Anna and Bates.

She cut across him.

"How dare you? Anna is under my jurisdiction and if I see her behaving in such a manner I have a responsibility to Lord and Lady Grantham I have a duty to stop her. Isn't that what you're always telling me, Mr Carson, that we have a _duty_ to maintain the dignity of this household? I hardly think that-..."

"Elsie." the authority in his voice was unmistakable.

She fell silent, suddenly nervous. Charles looked as if he was stirring himself to say something difficult to her. She felt a tinge of curiosity surface in spite of herself and immediately tried to suppress it. Finally, he began:

"Elsie, I am reluctant to punish Anna and Mr Bates because, I'm sure that you are aware, today we are all a bit over-wrought. Even on anothe-"

"What difference does that make?" she snapped back at him, "I have undergone just the same as them and you don't see-..." 

"Heavens, Elsie!" he exclaimed, "You have all but strangled two of your colleagues just for sharing a kiss!"

"I am doing my job!" she returned drawing herself up to her full height, "I hardly see how-..." 

"Damn it, Elsie, they're in love!"

The truth of his words echoed briefly off the walls of the house. Although they subdued her beyond measure she resolved not to back down.

"Even so," she began quietly, "I don't think-..." 

"Can't you even understand that?"

It was like a smack in the face, the question physically hurt her. She felt her eyes sting with tears but pushed them down. Rather than repressing her, it had renewed her anger.

"Can I not understand that, Charles Carson?" she asked, eyes glinting furiously, "Better than you'd probably care to think!"

She gave him a shove in the ribs for good measure. She saw the alarm in his face but didn't pause: she could feel herself getting into full flow.

"Why should I? After all, I'm only the heartless spinster of a housekeeper! I have no feelings of my own. When I'm alone at night, I don't think of you at all. The fact that I'm so in love with you that I sometimes forget to breath has no bearing on the situation at all!"

He made no attempt to silence her, instead, upon her uttering those words that had festered within her for so long he took hold of her wrists to stop the rhythmic shoves his body was receiving. The forceful motion made her pause and realise what exactly she had said. No, shouted. She had shouted it for the whole world to hear. Tears had run down her cheeks during her outburst. The silence that followed saw them standing, an arms length apart, him holding on to her wrists just looking at each other. She tried to speak but all she could muster was helpless muttering. Finally, he closed his eyes in the show of resignation she was so used to seeing.

"That never happened," he told her firmly.

She simply stared as he released her and returned inside, leaving her there.

* * *

Of course, she followed him. As soon as she had regained her senses and wiped her eyes on her sleeves, she near on ran. Thankfully, most of the other servants had gone to bed once she found herself wrapping desperately on his pantry door. In was a mercy that he even chose to let her in. Once they were inside, she stared at him, not that she could help herself. He tried to avoid her gaze.

"How can you?" was all she could finally choke out, "How can you say that?"

She felt the tears resurfacing but not the anger. Not enough to resume hitting him, anyway. He suddenly looked exceptionally tired.

"Elsie," he told her gently, "You are over-wrought."

"And I suppose I have been perpetually over-wrought for the past few months, then?" she queried, raising an eyebrow dangerously.

He glanced at her expression and seemed even more daunted by it.

"Don't do this, Elsie," he half pleaded, "Else we both saw things we'll regret tomorrow." 

Suddenly she felt bolder.

"I will never regret what I said because it was the truth." she told him, "I love you. Heaven only knows, I tried not to."

"That's not how it works." He shook his head sadly.

"No," she agreed.

Then she realised what he had said- might have said. It couldn't be... She looked at his face. It was helpless but somehow, almost smiling.

"Charles," she began in a warning voice, "If you're just pretending to spare my feelings...-"

"How could I pretend?" he asked, "I wouldn't know how."

It was. She almost sang but stopped herself. She wanted to hear it from him.

"Charles," she asked gently, "Is there something you need to tell me?"

He smiled sadly at her.

"I've never been very good at this," he confessed.

"Me neither," she countered swiftly.

She crossed the room to where he was standing. Timidly, she took him by the hand. He did not resist, if anything, he almost squeezed it.

"Do you love me, Charles?"

She felt the authority in her tone although she said it quietly. The look he gave her in response was almost imploring.

"How can I not?"

All of her Christmases had come at once. She felt an impulse to throw her arms around his neck and not let go but resisted. It did not surprise her that the tears began to trickle down her face again.

"Quite easily, I expect."

He shook his head.

"I gave up trying long ago."

"How long?" she wanted to know.

He seemed to think.

"Long ago enough that it was like a kick in the chest when you said you'd consider leaving."

It was useless, she thought, regretting what had or hadn't been considered in the past, although the hurt she had caused him pained her. All she could do was offer him an assurance that such a thing would never arise again.

**Please review. Should I write an epilogue for it?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry I've been absolutely pathetic lately. Exams. **

**Epilogue **

The church was packed with most of Downton village; Lord Grantham's family, his staff and most of his tenants. It had rained the night before but the sky was blindingly bright now, despite the cold. The bride and groom had just left and the congregation was gradually milling back towards the doors.

"It was a lovely service," Gwen remarked. She had been given the day off from her new job so that she could attend.

"It was, wasn't it?" Anna agreed.

Overhearing them as they passed, Daisy chirped in from her seat beside William. Anna noted that they seemed to have been holding hands.

"The dress turned out lovely in the end."

"I should hope so too!" Mrs Patmore would have all but cried it had they not been in a reverent setting, "Had us all up sewing half the night!"

"It was worth it, though," Daisy declared, standing up to follow Anna, Gwen and Mr Bates out of the church.

"It was," Mr Bates agreed, rather to Anna's surprise; he had been very quiet for most of the morning.

Mrs Patmore, however, seemed contemptuous at the statement.

"I should blooming think so too!" Having left the church now she was free to exclaim as much as she liked, "Ten year ago, Elsie Hughes could have had any chap she set her mind to, but oh no: she was going to to be the housekeeper and that was all she needed. Pity it didn't last a few more years." 

"I wouldn't let Mr Carson hear you say that," Bates warned her, "He couldn't take his eyes off her."

They settled into a companionable silence as they headed up the church path. As they progressed, Anna and Mr Bates took up their usual position and loitered away from the group a little.

"Funny that she didn't have a bridesmaid, isn't it?" he asked after a while.

Anna considered this.

"Not so much," she concluded, "Her sister couldn't make it down from Scotland."

"She wanted to ask you."

That surprised Anna enormously. She looked at him with puzzlement.

"I'm assuming she didn't tell you out right?"

He nodded.

"Mrs Patmore and I were...debating the issue in the kitchen and she walked in. She can't have not heard and she certainly didn't deny it."

"I wonder why."

He cast a very serious sideways glance at her.

"I'd have thought it was obvious."

He could be infuriating at times. She smiled at him.

"Well you're going to have to explain it to me."

Surprising herself, she linked her arm in his. It didn't seem to startle him though he decidedly paused before continuing.

"I think, aside from having great respect for you, she feels a bit guilty."

It would help if we could just _say _things.

"About what?"

"About warning you...us off."

He was probably right.

"There's an us?"

He sighed deeply, but smiled at her.

"I beginning to think that that would be the simplest solution."

Not another word was spoken as their linked arms were straightened and lowered until they were holding hands- until they returned to the house and were questioned at length about it by Gwen.

**End.**


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